Trials of Apollo : The Dark Prophecy
by Balletdancer5678
Summary: Apollo finally arrives to Indiana and there is more than corn than Indiana. The Roman Emperors continue to gain more power, Meg is yet to be found, there's an intriguing mortal, more acne and flab, the Achaeans, and an assortment of bad haikus.


Chapter 1

Lester (Apollo)

Still human; thanks for asking

Gods, I hate my life

When our dragon declared war on Indiana, I knew it was going to be a bad day.

We'd been traveling west for six weeks, and Festus had never shown such hostility toward a state. New Jersey he ignored. Pennsylvania he seemed to enjoy, despite our battle with the Cyclopes of Pittsburgh. Ohio he tolerated, even after our encounter with Potina, the Roman goddess of childhood drinks, who pursued us in the form of a giant red pitcher emblazoned with a smiley face.

Yet for some reason, Festus decided he did not like Indiana. He landed on the cupola of the Indiana Statehouse, flapped his metallic wings, and blew a cone of fire that incinerated the state flag right off the flagpole.

"Whoa, buddy!" Leo Valdez pulled the dragon's reins. "We've talked about this. No blowtorching public monuments!"

Behind him on the dragon's spine, Calypso gripped Festus' scales for balance. "Could we please get to the ground? Gently this time?"

For a formerly immortal sorceress who once controlled air spirits, Calypso was not a fan of flying. Cold wind blew her chestnut hair into my face, making me blink and spit.

That's right, dear reader.

I, the most important passenger, the youth who had once been the glorious god Apollo, was forced to sit in the back of the dragon. Oh, the indignities I had suffered since Zeus stripped me of my divine powers! It wasn't enough that I was now a sixteen-year-old mortal with the ghastly alias Lester Papadopoulos. It wasn't enough that I had to toil upon the earth doing (ugh) heroic quests until I could find a way back into my father's good graces, or that I had a case of acne which simply would not respond to over-the-counter zit medicine. Despite my New York State junior driver's license, Leo Valdez didn't trust me to operate his aerial bronze steed!

Festus' claws scrabbled for a hold on the green copper dome, which was much too small for a dragon his size. I had a flashback to the time I installed a life-size statue of the muse Calliope on my sun chariot and the extra weight of the hood ornament made me nosedive into China and create the Gobi Desert.

Leo glanced back, his face streaked with soot. "Apollo, you sense anything?"

"Why is it my job to sense things? Just because I used to be a god of prophecy — "

"You're the one who's been having visions," Calypso reminded me. "You said your friend Meg would be here."

Just hearing Meg's name gave me a twinge of pain. "That doesn't mean I can pinpoint her location with my mind! Zeus has revoked my access to GPS!"

"GPS?" Calypso asked.

"Godly positioning systems."

"That's not a real thing!"

"Guys, cool it." Leo patted the dragon's neck. "Apollo, just try, will you? Does this look like the city you dreamed about or not?"

I scanned the horizon.

Indiana was flat country — highways crisscrossing scrubby brown plains, shadows of winter clouds floating above urban sprawl. Around us rose a meager cluster of downtown high-rises — stacks of stone and glass like layered wedges of black and white licorice. (Not the yummy kind of licorice, either; the nasty variety that sits for eons in your stepmother's candy bowl on the coffee table. And, no, Hera, why would I be talking about you?)

After falling to earth in New York City, I found Indianapolis desolate and uninspiring, as if one proper New York neighborhood — Midtown, perhaps — had been stretched out to encompass the entire area of Manhattan, then relieved of two-thirds of its population and vigorously power-washed.

I could think of no reason why an evil triumvirate of ancient Roman emperors would take interest in such a location. Nor could I imagine why Meg McCaffrey would be sent here to capture me. Yet my visions had been clear. I had seen this skyline. I had heard my old enemy Nero give orders to Meg: Go west. Capture Apollo before he can find the next Oracle. If you cannot bring him to me alive, kill him.

The truly sad thing about this? Meg was one of my better friends. She also happened to be my demigod master, thanks to Zeus's twisted sense of humor. As long as I remained mortal, Meg could order me to do anything, even kill myself. . . . No. Better not to think of such possibilities.

I shifted in my metal seat. After so many weeks of travel, I was tired and saddle sore. I wanted to find a safe place to rest. This was not such a city. Something about the landscape below made me as restless as Festus.

After Valdez managed to convince Festus to land on a large patch of green grass we began on our journey. The influences of us gods were easily spotted as we walked through the clusters of different government buildings. Pillars and domes dominated the area instead of your mortals' more modern designs. My breath formed little clouds in the bitter cold air. "Come on, let's head inside it's freezing," Calypso spoke leading Valdez and I towards the doors of the capitol building.

At the doors stood two men in black uniforms with bored expressions plastered on their faces. They glanced at us and resumed their bored facades. If I was in my godly state they would have immediately realized how important of a person I was but my awesomeness is unable to shine at its true potential in this human body. Yes, dear reader, I am still very human from the acne to the flab to the inability to access my godly powers… and… it… sucks…

Of course, I led us all through the twisting winding maze of hallways into the main part of the building. No, I truly did. Now, out of all the places I had come to visit this was the only one that had actually prepared for my arrival. A few tables had an assortment of cookies and brightly colored drinks as people mingled around. "Wonder, what's going on here?" "Day of Prayer, so a bunch of choirs are invited down to perform," a red-headed girl answered my question. The girl slightly reminded me of a younger, shorter Rachel Dare with her piercing green eyes that seemed to see right through me. The girl next to her turned around and looked at us confused, "What school are you guys from?"

Suddenly, I was hyper aware from the small tear on my jeans to the newest blackhead added to my collection of acne on my face. I opened my mouth to begin speaking as a boy taller than myself and the girls interrupted, "Hoffman, wants us all to sit down and watch the other choirs perform." The red headed girl looped arms with the brunette, "Sorry, have to go," and off they went. I looked up at the ceiling. Above me was an intricate pattern of blue glass with scattered accents of red and yellow but on the walls, was something even more interesting different sculptures. Under each sculpture was a different title, justice, art, agriculture, history, liberty, law, commerce and oratory… and each one made me feel more uneasy.


End file.
